Give Me Back the Dirty Boxers
by Daughter of the Earthshaker
Summary: Because no matter how clean and nice it looks, the floor isn't supposed to see the light and the kitchen counter's supposed to covered in food and Kool-Aid stains. And no matter how much Reyna enjoys a clean house and the smell of lemons, she would trade all of it for an un-made bed, stupid pranks, and a pair of dirty lightning bolt boxers any day. One-shot.


**Hey, so this is some really weird one-shot. You know when you get those weird plot-bunny things that say 'WRITE THIS NOW!' in your head? So I got one, and it demanded me to get this on paper...err...Microsoft Word. If I don't get my stupid songfics up this week (only five more inserts altogether for both songfics!), then consider this the dose of Jayna for this week! Though there might be a prequel to this soon, and this is a depressing Jayna one-shot. **

**Got nothing else to say right now...just waiting for more inspiration. Oh! And there are song lyrics in this by Maroon Five; a song called _One More Night_. I've been listening to this song non-stop. Seriously. LISTEN TO IT! And please ignore the awkward title...I didn't know what to name it, other than the song's name, but it doesn't really revolve around that...**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rick Riordan's HOO or PJO OR Maroon Five's _One More Night_. **

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**Give Me Back the Dirty Boxers**

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"Reyna, Octavian-"

"Seinna, don't worry about him. Just send the troops out to look for him," Reyna instructs the legionnaire, her dark eyes cold.

The legionnaire bows her head slightly. "Yes, praetor."

As she rushes out the door, the dark-haired girl wishes Dakota was here still, but changes her mind. Reyna didn't need him to see her weaker than she is already.

Biting her lip, she forces the tears back as she walks swiftly to his _villa_.

Taking out her key, she unlocks the door and walks in.

The memory of him hits her so hard that she lets out a stifled cry. Swallowing the sobs (she's the daughter of Bellona, strong, not going to cry), she surveys the room for any clue to where he could possibly be.

She looks everywhere. Under the covers, inside the fridge, behind the dressers, beneath the couch, but everything looks exactly how he had it last night, when she was with him, though it's a mess after she's done with it.

Gods, Reyna wishes she hadn't left him alone. If she could have just believed him that everything was going to be alright, that them going out officially wasn't going to ruin the praetorship, then maybe he would still be here today. By her side.

But the daughter of Bellona knows it's stupid thinking about changing the past. She would just have to live with the regret, the pain of losing him.

Walking around like a zombie (Zombie King; isn't that your nickname from him?), she finally gives up as she locks the front door and pulls the shutters down shut, collapsing on his bed, wrapping the covers tightly around her. It's only then that she lets the silent tears fall down her cheeks, a salty waterfall that never seems to end as it falls, _falls_, ever so quietly down to his messy blankets. The Kool-Aid stains don't help her, reminding her painfully of the first ever BARF meeting.

"Stupid McQueen," she mutters to herself, wiping the tears away. "Stupid, stupid _podex_."

After another minute or so of letting herself _be_, she finally gets up and lays the blankets neatly on his bed, carefully smoothing out every little crease and wrinkle. The praetor then continues cleaning the rest of his room, and the other rooms, stacking the papers in neat piles, storing the prank notes away, out of sight, and picks up dirty socks. When Reyna is done, she turns her attention to the rest of the house, tackling the kitchen first. The war daughter walks down the stairs, picks up the food she threw on the ground and sorts them into two piles. All the canned food goes back into their cupboards while she tosses the other food into a box to be put into her own kitchen. She washes the dishes from last night, stacking them neatly back onto the shelves, wiping the counter until it sparkled.

Walking back into the living room, she pops one of Jason's favourite CDs into the CD player as she picks up his dirty laundry.

"_So I cross my heart and hope to die, that I'll only stay with you one more night_," the Roman sings along, smiling sadly at his lightning bolt boxers. Dumping them all into a hamper for her to wash later, Reyna climbs the stairs to the bathroom, placing his toothbrush neatly into its holder, capping the toothpaste, and picks the towels off the ground and leaves them outside for her to throw into the hamper later. She scrubs the mirror clean and shiny, her fingers lingering on the photo of them after the War.

Blinking back more tears, she drags herself away, rushing downstairs with the towels. Reyna grabs the duster from the closet and begins to dust the rooms. "_And now I'm feeling stupid, crawling back to you_," the female praetor sings, determined to not look at the photos she was dusting.

_She couldn't._

The smaller version of the painting in the hall of the two of them is in front of her right now, her red cheeks and his wide grin mock her, their joined hands seem like a broken promise now. "_I'll be waking up in the morning, probably hating myself, and I'll be waking up, feeling satisfied but guilty as hell._"

She takes a deep breath and carries on, quickly dusting each photo as quickly as she could, moving onto the sweeping and mopping. "_And I know I've said it a million times, but I'm only going to stay with you one more night._"

Finally, the war daughter is finished, and Reyna surveys the place, turning the player off. It looks amazing, and livable.

Grabbing the hamper, she reaches for the doorknob, but at the last second, she opens his drawer and takes out a blue t-shirt with the _Superman _logo on it, reminding herself to take the _My shirt is more awesomer than you _shirt later when she's done washing it.

Reyna reaches for the doorknob yet again, taking a final glance around the _villa_, and has a sinking feeling that it doesn't look right.

Because no matter how clean and nice it looks, the floor isn't supposed to see the light and the kitchen counter's supposed to covered in food and Kool-Aid stains.

And no matter how much Reyna enjoys a clean house and the smell of lemons, she would trade all of it for an un-made bed, stupid pranks, and a pair of dirty lightning bolt boxers any day.

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***DOTE smiles and ignores the tear falling down her cheek* I didn't want to write sad Jayna, but the plot bunny said so. I've gotta go before my mother yells at me (it's night time 'round here) so hope y'all enjoyed, and Reyna is not too OOC. Because all Ice Queens melt at some point, right? Just not in front of people. **

**Please read and review!**

**-DOTE**


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